


The Way Back

by petriganda



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Freeform, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petriganda/pseuds/petriganda
Summary: Bits and pieces of a world in which Marceline tried to help Betty. Set after YFYF, no real plot.
Relationships: Betty Grof & Marceline, Betty Grof/Ice King | Simon Petrikov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	The Way Back

This was a special kind of sadness, one you'd known before, but familiarity doesn't make it easier.

As a girl, you'd heard so much about this perfect woman. Her hair was red like you'd never seen red before, her wide and round brown eyes were warm and bright and eager, she had a pointy nose that had seen its fair share of breaks and a perfectly crooked jaw. Her intelligence was infallible and her confidence was unquestionable, she was reckless and fearless and obnoxiously stubborn, never knowing when to stop. She took up space, she was loud, and she was impossible to ignore. You were told she was the most sublime creature that ever lived. You were made to think this woman was made from marble and you felt like you'd known her before you'd ever even met her. Now, she was doubled over in front of you begging to die, begging you to put a bullet in her head and free her from the awful labyrinth her soul had become. You watched this marble woman lay on the living room floor, tangled red hair clinging to her forehead and tears and snot smeared on her face as she squirmed, under siege by a tormenter she could not be defended from. The only thing you could do was stay there with her and hold her hand tightly, saying her name louder and louder until you were screaming and she finally came back to her senses. It was a terrifying experience that brought you back to campfires and moldy shopping malls and cramped backseats. You had prayed to never live through it again, but the universe was not known for being just.

She was lucid most of the time and you forgot there was something wrong with her or why she was even there. She was as captivating as described and she was, admittedly, very beautiful. She had insisted on your help, telling you that your insight might be more valuable than anything in any of her books, but mostly you just hung around and watched her read. You weren't quite sure if she needed your help or if she just wanted your presence, but either way you didn't mind. You would sing sometimes while she combed through books and scrolls, testing spells and frequencies on whatever strange objects and ancient artifacts she could get her hands on. She didn't hear you, though, she was always lost in her work. It was interesting to watch. She fused magic and science in a way that you would've thought was impossible. It was mesmerizing and you forgot that she was losing herself too, that you were watching the same scene play out as you had nearly a thousand years before. She was deteriorating, becoming more unstable and apathetic by the day. With all you had, for all it had taken, you hated magic.

She had explained what magic was to you, a chillingly familiar description. It had been the day she'd found out about you, begging you to tell her everything, begging for your help.

She had been stifling giggles as she explained, hideous, joyless laughter.

"Magic is… it's like a maze," at that point she still sounded calm, her words cautious. She wasn't quite sure what to make of you yet. "A horrible maze a-and you're just- running and running and I know there's no way out, right? There's no exit." She was laughing now, sobbing with tears in her eyes. "There's no point to trying to solve it and I know that and it's driving me insane, 'cause what else do I do? Just sit there? That's- it's- it's just worse!" She went completely silent, her awful, empty eyes the size of dinner plates. She turned to you slowly, an involuntary smile creeping across her lips. "I've only been at this a year," she screamed. "One stupid, awful year!" She was gripping her head, roaring with laughter and choking on cries. "If I had to do this for- for ten or a hundred or-" She cut herself off and went silent, her jaw going slack and fat tears silently sliding down her cheeks. She had curled into the fetal position on your couch. "God forbid a thousand years," she whispered. She shot up again suddenly, looking you dead in the eyes. You could feel her hot breath on your face. "I would actually kill myself." She was screaming, laughing, and you wanted to forget that soulless laughter. "I have to fix him! If I don't, who will? B-but… But who's gonna fix me?" 

You didn't talk to her about magic again.


End file.
